One of the most disappointing aspects of the World Cup was the failure of all bar a few fly-halves to rise above the mediocre, but the Heineken Cup has not been similarly blighted so far and Rhys Priestland made a welcome return to the No10 jersey at Northampton, his first start since Wales's World Cup quarter-final against Ireland.

Priestland was one of the few outside-halves to leave his imprint on the World Cup, but he got his chance after Stephen Jones strained a calf muscle during the warm-up at Twickenham before Wales's friendly against England at the beginning of August. What may, judging by the performances of Jones and James Hook in New Zealand, have been a problem position for Wales became, arguably, their strongest.

When Priestland emerged from the Under-20s four years ago, he was not regarded as likely to succeed as a full international, and not only because there were questions about his defence. He did not stand out and he returned to the Scarlets where he was used more at full-back, covering for Jones at outside-half.

He could not have been in a better environment. If there are in Europe today teams who are distinguishable only by the jerseys they wear, with many matches being prolonged arm wrestles, the Scarlets use their backs: there is an element of necessity behind their approach because they do not have the most intimidating of packs, but it is also the region of the late Carwyn James who encouraged players to think for themselves and to scent the weak spots of opponents.

Llanelli has over the years produced exceptional 10s – Barry John was followed at Stradey Park in the 1960s by Phil Bennett – and if in terms of style Priestland does not bear comparison, he shares with them one defining characteristic: an ability to see what is in front of him and react immediately.

Priestland's contribution to Wales was conspicuous when he was absent. They were far narrower in attack against France in the World Cup semi-final and Australia in the play-off than they had been when Priestland was at 10. Hook, such an instinctive outside-half when first capped by Wales, and Jones, were slower in their decision-making, as if spooked by Priestland's impact, and Jamie Roberts at inside-centre found himself getting the ball later.

Priestland does not play by numbers. He is a practitioner of what coaches call scanning, looking around to see what is on before he receives the ball so that when he receives it he knows whether he is going to pass, kick or run; he has seen whether the defence is out of alignment or if there is space to exploit.

He is like a midfielder in football, a player like Cesc Fábregas comes to mind, whose threat comes not from his pace, his physique or his height but his speed of thought, the ability to weigh up what is on before he has received the ball, to spellbind opponents; the essence of Barcelona.

Such players are not bound by coaching but enhance it. Rugby union has in the professional era moved towards a low-risk approach. As the conditioning of players has improved beyond compare to the amateur era, bar bells coming to signify something other than last orders, so play has become more proscribed and less reflexive; more defensive.

Priestland, of course, operates within a gameplan for both Wales and Scarlets but he is encouraged to be flexible. The Scarlets victory at Northampton was achieved not by running back scraps of possession from deep, often the refuge of a side outgunned in the tight five, but by selecting targets.

Priestland, taking advantage of the absence of Ben Foden, tested Northampton's back three with an array of kicking. The Scarlets' chase was effective, mistakes were capitalised on and the Saints, a side used to dictating play, found themselves playing a game in front of their own supporters on someone else's terms.

With Hook, an instinctive outside-half when he was first capped by Wales, now at Perpignan, and Stephen Jones left out of the Wales squad for next week's international against Australia after 104 caps, Priestland is without a major rival. Dan Biggar has been recalled after missing the World Cup, but he lacks Priestland's vision and poise under pressure, even if he should now have a dose of humility.

As England survey the wreckage of their World Cup campaign, with more flotsam added this week by leaked reports, some of their players are asking why they did not play with their heads up in the tournament, as Wales did with Priestland. It was a theme taken up by both Tom Croft and Ben Youngs last weekend.

The headlines would imply that they were criticising Martin Johnson, who had resigned as England team manager only a few days before, but what they were saying made it clear that it was the coaching they were questioning: it has now become evident that had Johnson remained, he would have come under pressure to find new attack and forwards coaches.

Croft and Youngs talked of the need for players to contribute to the development of gameplans and not be slaves to them. Croft wondered why the reactive rugby that England produced against Australia last November had rarely been glimpsed since. He did not blame Johnson the manager.

Were England very different from the Premiership clubs that underpin them? If there is to be a sea change in the national side's approach, the players will find themselves in a boat against the current. Wales armed themselves in New Zealand with young players such as Priestland who had grown up in a more open environment, and although they did not make the final of the World Cup, just as the Scarlets still have it to prove in the darkest winter months in their Heineken Cup pool, they gave themselves their best chance while England were squandering their resources, readies rather than ready.

A STRATEGIC MESS

If the RFU should have learned anything from one of the worst years in its history, it is that strategy ideally transcends personality. Given the reaction to the resignation of Martin Johnson as England team manager in the last week, that is yet to happen.

The blame game is in full swing. John Steele, the former chief executive of the RFU, copped it this year when he tried to ensure that the appointment of a performance director followed a process fitting to a £140m business.

And now Rob Andrew, the RFU's operations director, is in the firing line after having to start a search for a fourth England head in his 63 months with the Union, as he was personally responsible for the demise of the three who left their posts.

Andy Robinson was the first, three months into Andrew's reign. He was regarded as a dead man walking before Andrew joined the RFU after his entire management team had been sacked following the 2006 Six Nations.

Robinson was succeeded by Brian Ashton, who lasted less than 18 months as head coach. He was removed by the RFU despite the recommendation of Andrew that he be bolstered by a team manager. He was overruled and told to persuade Johnson to take over.

Now Johnson has gone, Andrew is being held responsible even though he did not fire the team manager nor has it been established that he was going to recommend that the manager be fired.

Sir Clive Woodward made a fair point this week when he talked about ensuring that the RFU made sure it adopted the proper process in appointing Johnson's successor, although when he questioned whether Andrew had the correct skill set, it begged the question whether those who appointed Woodward England coach in 1997 were any better qualified, or those who backed him in 1999 when there were calls in the media to sack him after a World Cup campaign that ended at the quarter-final stage.

"The RFU is searching for a chief executive, and quite rightly is paying top rates to an excellent head-hunting firm to deliver the right man," said Woodward. "So why is the England coaching post not subject to the same rigorous procedures? To me, the comparison with what the RFU is doing in appointing the chief executive is fundamental to why we are in danger of getting the appointment of head coach wrong again – it is chalk and cheese."

Quite so, which begs the question why Steele, when he tried to ensure that a rigorous process was followed in the search for a performance director, was sabotaged by those who preferred a method so disparaged by Woodward. It is where the whole RFU mess started and, nearly a year later, it is no further forward.

To blame Andrew is to highlight only why the RFU is in such a malaise. Personalities continue to matter more than strategies.